Chapter 68 Kiera
KIERA
The sight of the bloody trunk was almost as bad as the smell, though either on their own would have been enough to turn my stomach. I swallowed hard as bile burned at the back of my throat, determined not to add any more of my DNA to this fuckfest of a crime scene I’d gotten duped into cleaning.
But Dom strolled behind me, taking in the Pollock in the back of the car like it was any other detail job. “What’s wrong? Didn’t seem to mind the blood when you were taking a chunk out of my hand.”
“Fuck you,” I wheeled to face her, rage pulsing through my veins. “You’re gonna lose a lot more than some blood once I’m done with you.”
Dom smirked. “Bold words from someone who’s gotten pinned by me twice now.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I waved my hand back toward the car. “This isn’t a fucking joke! What is wrong with you?”
“Would you quit acting so surprised?” Dom laughed clear and deep, clearly getting a kick out of my terror. “What did you think initiation would be? Picking daisies and gossiping about boys? You saw The Gauntlet.”
Stepping closer to me, her gaze leveled me. The overhead lights cast most of her face in shadows. But through the darkness, those piercing blue eyes said everything. “You know what we are. And you know you’re no better, Viper.”
I wanted to argue, but a part of me knew it was true. Once Spencer and Leo had explained what that man did, any outrage I felt over the matter melted away. Only the resentment of being left out of their dark secret had remained.
It hadn’t stopped me from staying in the house, from trusting them with my safety, from fucking one of my captors and flirting with another.
As much as I recoiled from the violence at The Hollow, I couldn’t deny that it pulled at something deep in my brain. There was a part of me, revolting as it was, that lit up at his suffering. I wanted to watch him get battered over and over and over again until the image was burned into my brain.
Because deep down, I thought they were justified. I’d known plenty of men who did the awful things he was guilty of, but I knew far too few people who were willing to take justice, no matter the cost.
And any anger or fear I’d felt in the aftermath was turning out to be a projection of my desire for more violence.
When I stirred from my thoughts, it was because Dom was shoving a big black garbage bag and a pair of nitrile gloves against my chest. My eyes flicked down to her hands, confused when she’d had time to put on her own gloves.
“I’d suggest you work fast and thorough,” she growled. “Sunlight’s fading fast, and your DNA is all over that thing.”
My skin crawled at the idea of what exactly she wanted me to clean. My eyes flicked back to the trunk, certain that there must be a body under all those tarps, something that I missed. There wasn’t, thankfully, though its absence made the entire thing eerier.
“Gloves first.” Dom raised her brow, a hint of irritation already creeping into her voice. “Then go grab the bleach.”
I tried to hide the trembling in my hands as I pulled on the black gloves and crossed over to the storage cabinet. Up at the top shelf was an industrial size bottle of bleach sat beside a big plastic bin.
“Grab that too.” Dom muttered, nodding toward the tub with her chin.
I rocked onto my tiptoes, grabbing the shelf to stabilize the wobble in my ankles.
With my free hand, I reached up, just barely grasping the lip of the tub and flicking it toward the edge of the shelf.
Empty except for the four-cup measure inside of it, it came down with ease.
The bottle of bleach was a different beast entirely — one that nearly pulled my shoulder from its socket as gravity hurtled it down from the shelf toward the floor.
“Don’t spill.” Dom glared, leaning her hip against the car.
“Obviously I’m not trying to,” I gritted my teeth, dragging over the supplies.
But I didn’t dare mouth off too much as she walked me through diluting the bleach with a hose from the shop.
I might not want to show it, but at this point, I was terrified to disobey her.
As much of a bitch as she was, it seemed like she knew what she was doing here, and I would take any help at this point if it kept me out of jail.
Once I dumped the weapons into the bleach bath for a soak, she had me pull the garbage from the trunk and then tackle the blood-stains with the same cleaning solution and wet vac combo I’d used on the interior.
But as I worked, I couldn’t help eyeing the garbage pail nervously. “How do we get of that stuff?”
Dom scowled. “Don’t worry about that. Worry about my instructions.”
“Don’t you think that considering my DNA is on all of it I have some right—”
She cut me off with a snarl. “You don’t have rights here. You have orders.”
After that, I made quiet work of the clean-up. I didn’t even know what time it was anymore, just that it was dark outside. Leo and Spencer hovered around the far end of the shop somewhere, but they’d made themselves exceedingly sparse while Dom tortured me. Convenient.
But soon, the carpet was clean, the garbage was removed, and all that was left was to clean the knives. Their silver blades sparkled at the bottom of the tinted bleach mixture like fish in a muddy stream.
I wasn’t sure how Dom wanted me to handle this. Pour out the bleach into the shop drain? But before I could try it, her voice hissed over my shoulder. “Kneel.”
“Wha—?” I didn’t get the word out of my mouth before her hand clamped down on my shoulder, pushing down until my knees hit the cement beside the tub. That’s going to bruise.
I whipped my head back to catch a glimpse of her straddling a leather work stool, poring over a metal tray she’d set up while I was working. I couldn’t make out what was on it from here, but my blood chilled at the thought of what might be.
Is that it then? She uses me to clean up her mess, and then she finishes me?
Even as the thought crossed my mind, I didn’t dare move. Couldn’t if I wanted to, as panic froze me where I kneeled.
But rather than grabbing a weapon, she tossed a red, plastic scrub brush at my feet, turning her attention back to the tray. “Scrub any residue left off of the knives, then place them here so I can check your work.”
Grabbing a hold of the brush, I reached into the bucket slowly, careful not to cut myself on any of the sharp edges as my fingers closed around the weighty handle of a silver dagger.
I was struck as I pulled the knife by how beautiful it was.
These weren’t just ordinary kitchen knives, they were hefty silver blades with ornate, carved handles.
My mind flashed back to the vendor I’d spotted at The Hollow, but as I turned this knife in my hand, there was no name engraved.
I guess it would be pretty fucking stupid to engrave your name on a murder weapon. But then again, these bitches clearly have a flair for the dramatic.
Dunking the brush back into the bleach, I scrubbed it over every nook and cranny of the brush, dipping the weapon and the brush back into the bleach as needed.
Once the knife sparkled, I stood, trying to keep myself steady as I carried it over to Dom. Either I was exhausted, or the bleach fumes were really getting to me, because every time I stood, the shop spun around me.
As I started in on the next brush, I could hear her muttering under her breath, wiping the weapon down again with a bleach-soaked paper towel before scrubbing at the handle’s edge with a Q-tip.
Her reaction was the same no matter how many knives I brought her or how thoroughly they’d been cleaned. Quietly, I began to scrub harder, unsure why she was so irritated. But with my hands aching, there was only so hard I could grip the brush.
I had the urge to shake out my wrists, hoping to relieve whatever nerve I’d pinched, but I didn’t dare for fear of splattering the DNA across the shop.
Instead, I took a second to flex and unflex my hand over the bucket. If I could just get rid of this ache…
But just as I was about to reach in for the last blade, something dropped into the tub, nearly taking my finger with it. “Sloppy,” Dom growled. “Do it again.”
I held my hands up at my sides as I took in the bleach splattered on the floor around me. The fact that none of it hit me was a matter of coincidence rather than any consideration from Dom’s end.
You fucking asshole…
Grabbing the last two knives, I ran the brush over them with renewed vigor, channeling my frustration with Dom into each stroke.
She could act like she was some saint giving me shelter as long as she wanted, but we both knew the truth. She was a sadistic fucking monster who had to keep her friends on a payroll for them to have any interest in her.
She wasn’t reclusive, she was repulsive. And what she was doing with me was just the next evolution of her depravity. Even if The Oracle hadn’t stepped in, I bet she’d have found a way to keep me here just so she had something fresh to torture.
The rage simmering in my gut wanted me to spill the tub of bleach all over the shop floor, to spit in her face and tell her exactly what I thought of her.
But it was just two more knives. Two more, and I wouldn’t have to look at her stupid, chiseled face for a few more days, hopefully.
Dom couldn’t just take the silence as a victory, though. She wouldn’t stop poking the bear until it bit.
Flicking her eyes over me, she sneered. “If this is how messy you are with the weapons, you’ll be fucked if they find the car. Who knows how many of those pretty red hairs of yours are tangled in the carpet fibers? Or where the ones from your hairbrush could end up if you keep causing problems?”
Bitchy comments I could handle, but threats were where I drew the line.
Flying up from my knees in a fury, I gripped the silver knife in my fist as I stormed over and swung it at Dom — lodging it into the leather cushion square between her legs. Her icy gaze cracked, giving way to shock as they flicked from the dagger between her legs up to my eyes.
“Be careful who you threaten. If you’re coming for me, then you’d better follow through.” My chest rose and fell as I towered over her, drinking in the power of her shock.
I knew the moment was fleeting. It would only be seconds before she smacked me down or worse. It’s what Gabriel would have done, after all.
But to my surprise, instead of striking back. Dom just let out a deep, hearty laugh that almost sounded… proud. Her eyes carried an almost excited fire now. I furrowed my brow as she tilted her head back, letting the sound come deep from her chest.
“What’s so funny?” I barked, but my bravado shattered as Dom stood, sending me scrambling back. She took a step toward me, raising her hand, and something like relief washed over me as I braced for the strike I’d been certain was coming.
Here it is.
But she didn’t hit me. Instead, she clapped a rough hand against my back before disappearing into the shadowy backroom of the shop. “I knew that fire was in there somewhere. Welcome to the club, Viper.”